


The Night of the Cursed Prince

by Aithilin



Series: Halloween Week 2019 [7]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Costume Party, Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life, True Love's Kiss, halloween party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 11:30:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21252692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: The Citadel Children’s Party was the highlight of the season, though Noctis hadn’t thought his costume would cause such a stir.





	The Night of the Cursed Prince

The Citadel Children’s Party was always the highlight of the Autumn Festivals. It fell on Hallow’s Eve itself; the culmination of every neighbourhood festival and park fair grounds. Whole classes in Insomnian schools were entered to win their attendance, the Crown Prince’s charities raffled tickets off for donations through the year, and the community centres and libraries and museums across the city offered contests for essays and drawings for their tickets. Any not sold or gifted in the month before the event were given to the Guard and Glaives— to have their families attend, or to gift them to whichever children they thought might like to come. It was a beloved tradition in the kingdom, and Noctis had hosted it for as long as he could remember. 

He remembered being small, holding Cor’s hand as he greeted guests in his own costume. Too little to do more than shy away from the scarier teens, and coo over the children his own age. He remembered awkward years, where he was at a loss for his duties, confused by the attention and traditions. And the years before those, still recovering from injury and illness, smiling and pale as he enthused over costumes and treats. 

Now, however, he was older, and there was a show involved with the whole thing. 

He commandeered the throne room and lower levels. His theme spreading from the Halls of History to the Guard Rooms, and the cavernous Audience Hall the centrepiece of the whole event. Tables overflowing with gifts and treats were lining the entrance, guiding the eager children in, the rest of the room obscured by curtain screens and streamers and all the tricks the Citadel had to reveal grand surprises. Last year, the theme had been magic; and the safe spells Noctis had learnt in his youth— the sparks in his palms, the colourful crystals of ice conjured in the air and falling in confetti-like snowflakes, the dancing sparks of fire. He had dressed like a wizard, and the Citadel his enchanted forest for the night. His ‘familiars’ all birds, with their own card tricks and treats— Gladio with his feats of strength, Ignis with his homemade treats and sweets conjured from behind folds in costumes and hats and hair, and Prompto with more card tricks than Noctis thought was possible. 

This year, they still carried a woodland theme. The Audience Hall was decorated like the Slough waters. Images of great, lumbering Catoblepas projected on the walls, and curtains, moving across the room’s “ponds”. The dip in the floor, leading up to the throne itself was the pond, troughs of water with apples lining the approach while blue carpet had been laid out with lily pad tables and rocky chairs. Ladders and stairs made to look like trees led up to the galleries, with Guards and guides to watch that no one slipped, or to get them to the next attraction over. To the Halls of History where the portraits and statues were inter-spaced with actors offering scares as the lights had dimmed and false walls made the galleries a maze. The guard room was reserved for the teenagers, letting them mingle with the Glaives and Guards who had volunteered to join the event; who had stayed to decorate and clear the space, letting the rooms be blocked off like a dungeon or ruins, or whatever else matched the theme. 

This year, Noctis was placed under a terrible witch’s curse. 

The decorations of the Wetland Halls— as they were being called— his roaming grounds. This year, he was a gallant and noble prince turned into a cat for the evening. His guardian wolf, falcon, and rabbit all leading the young guests through events while Noctis decided it was entirely in character to teach the children how to catch fish from their little ponds. 

Most of the kids seemed happiest tugging at the long, feline tail Noctis had started to regret adding to his costume. 

“Don’t princes turn into frogs?” One little boy had asked, the glowing pom of his Moogle costume bobbing with his constant movements. 

“Will you still be a cat in the morning?” Asked a little girl dressed up like a witch. 

And so the story was woven around the Halls. The Crown Prince was cursed by a witch who lived out in the Hallow (helpfully played last minute by Monica, though Noctis was certain he was going to owe her a massive favour), who would lift the curse only at dawn. Until some keen young children pointed out that curses were always broken by true love’s kiss. 

Noctis resigned himself to a night of being asked where his shining knight, Sir Ulric, was now that he needed him the most. 

The story had spread and a game was made of it. Gladio wrangled the young children into an easy scavenger hunt, finding the tools necessary to summon the Prince’s saviour. Ignis showed older children how to work their potions— ‘brewing’ alternative methods to breaking the curse that all had to be tested on his young apprentices first. And Prompto...

Prompto made some calls. 

Noctis decided that he could stand being in distress for a time, if it meant sitting on the steps to the throne with piles of candy to give out and snack on. He had already decided that it was much easier being a cat than a prince. 

But the excitement started in the Guard room. Where the teens were treated to an escape room with the Glaives— the captured hero (dragged in from across the city and bribed with promises of treats)— leading the charge as he helped the groups of starstruck teens unlock the false cages and lockers emptied for the party. 

Potions to heal the hero were brewed, while Noctis smirked at his phone and sent pictures of Ignis’ fruity, fizzing concoction to Nyx. Until an eagle-eyed young Imp loudly proclaimed that cats can’t text.

The magic circle was finished last with Monica’s witchy expertise and Gladio carrying the collection from the scavenger hunt. Toy fish and dogs and cats to remind Noctis of who he was— a Halloween crown, a toy sceptre rattling with candy— were all set around the feline Crown Prince. And then things to draw Nyx in— in case his beloved knight didn’t recognize him— were laid in a path from the grand entrance. 

Noctis grinned as Nyx appeared with a gaggle of gleeful children in his wake. Half a dozen little Ulrics were trailing in his shadow, awestruck by the Hero of the Kingsglaive right there and talking to them, learning their names, complimenting their costumes. 

“My hero,” Noctis purred once Nyx was close enough.

“This was a lot of work for a cat, little king.”

“I’ve been advised by very reliable sources that I am not allowed to be a cat forever,” Noctis could ignore the eyes on them, the rising whisper that echoed in the room. The snicker of his friends around them, and the muttering teens. “Curses break with kisses, I think.”

“Better kiss you then.”

There was a childish gasp as Nyx kissed Noctis, enraptured children watching to see if the game was at an end. To see if they had won. 

Nyx stole the cat ears from Noctis’ head as they parted. “Much better.”


End file.
